Our Heart of the Ocean A Klaine Fanfic
by Bittergummy
Summary: Kurt Hummel, a rich and gay young adult in 1912, is being forced to move to America and marry his soon-to-be wife, Annemarie in order to stop his family from going bankrupt.But when he boards the Ship of Dreams he is saved in every way one can be saved.
1. Prologue Imprisoned

**Disclaimer: All rights belong to their corresponding directors, artists, etc. I was inspired by a very well done trailer of Klaine! Enjoy!**

**April 10****th****, 1912 **

The morning air was extremely crisp and bitter though the sun was shining in the sapphire sky. Despite the bleak temperature, the excited crowds on the ports of Southampton, England tittered excitedly and waved at family and friends. They were all in the shadow of a vast ship with a massive hull and stories of decks. Many passengers already aboard waved at family and random passerby, cheering loudly. Each passenger and spectator looked up at the steam drums that blocked out the sun, making the _Titanic _truly look like a vessel of the heavens. The ship of dreams, the unsinkable ship, they thought. Everyone was excited. Save for one tortured soul whose elegant carriage door opened with a snap. The doorman held out a gloved hand and a pale one grabbed it for support. Emerging from the carriage was a young man dressed in fine clothing. The elegant hat upon his head blocked his face as he looked at the ground for his footing.

"Thank you" he muttered faintly to the doorman, looking up at the great ship before him.

His face was angelic and pale with light blue eyes. His hair, momentarily hidden beneath his hat, was a delicate shade of brown. He greatly resembled a fragile porcelain doll. But there was no twinkle in his eyes or a smile on his elegant face. In fact, he looked thoughtful and bored, as if the _Titanic _unimpressed him.

"So this is it, is it?"

"Does it not please you, darling?"

The man looked down at his side where a woman clutched his arm. She gave him a smile that did not meet her eyes. Sure enough, as soon as Thomas Andrew passed him with a warm smile, the woman pinched her face into an angry grimace.

"What's the matter with you, Kurt? You could have offended Mr. Andrew! You're a disgrace!"

"Thomas is quite fond of me. He would laugh if I told him that I was expecting more."

Annemarie scoffed and painfully squeezed Kurt's arm, creating a crease in her forehead as she held her angry expression. Annemarie had a pleasant face and sleek black curls, but the frown she wore diminished the appeal. She was Kurt's fiancé, horribly fussy and obsessed with image.

"'Expecting more'? Why Mr. Hummel, I thought I heard you're voice!"

Kurt turned to Joseph Bruce Ismay. His handlebar mustache was neat and as dark as his windswept hair. He looked upon his investment of the White Star Line hungrily.

"This is the ship of dreams after all. And unsinkable! Guaranteed safety."

"Well, dear Kurt is not so easily swayed, Mr. Ismay, don't mind him, really." Annemarie said with her false cheery voice.

As Ismay walked away another woman trotted up to Kurt's side. She was short with brown hair tied up carefully, tan skin, and blue eyes. She looked at Kurt fondly.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" She whispered

"Ready as I'll ever be." He sighed, reluctantly taking Annemarie's arm and walking with her towards the ship.

"Burt will be along shortly, we'll see him in our room." Carol said, catching up to Annemarie's terse walk.

"What about Finn?"

"He's with him too."

They finally stopped as the line towards the temporary bridge to get on the ship thickened. One by-one they handed the crew member their tickets. The more Kurt walked towards the door, the more he felt as though he was imprisoning himself. He was trapped in an unwanted marriage and horribly misunderstood with no true feelings towards any women; especially Annemarie, who was verbally and sometimes physically abusive. He remembered miserably the two occasions he was struck across the face for angering her. The things that had angered her had been trifle annoyances, meaningless. He prepared himself after that to lead a miserable life as a pet for Annemarie. Kurt let the parchment slip through his fingers. As he stepped into the hallway of the _Titanic_ he did not know that he would be saved in every way someone could be saved.

**Stay tuned for Blaine! Any suggestions, criticism, and praise is greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2 Leaving Port

**I'm sorry about the error in the prologue! I meant to say Kurt was coming out of a car. There are no carriages in 1912. Sorry! If you want to get an awesome feel for this chapter listen to "Leaving Port' and "Taker her to Sea, Mr. Murdoch" by James Horner while reading!  
**

**April 10****th****, 1912 a mile from Southampton port**

A young man was sleeping soundly in a battered bed. His room was small, but cozy. There were a number of keepsakes and framed pictures covered in dust. The boy's hair was dark and curly. They draped over his childlike face as he slept on, unaware of the world around him. He had long eyelashes and thick eyebrows, furrowed down as he dreamed. Suddenly his door opened with an almighty crash. He jolted awake with shock as a girl grabbed his covers from him and began hitting him with his own pillow.

"Blaine! Wake up! Do you know what time it is?" The girl shrieked, with a look of wild panic on her face.

Blaine was horribly disoriented.

"What? Rachel, what are you talking about?"

Blaine jumped up and looked at his old alarm clock. It read 11:59 the _Titanic_ was set to leave at 12:15

"Oh my God! Oh my God we have to go! Is everyone from the troupe here?"

"There's a car waiting outside. You're not the only one who woke up late."

Blaine passed by Rachel and began putting on his boots. He fumbled with the ties, feeling frustrated.

"I thought Artie was supposed to be the first to come by and wake us all up."

"Artie was yelling about his alarm clock breaking or whatever and then he reminded me that he can't move his legs so we can't blame him for being late."

"No, I'll find a way to blame him." Blaine hissed angrily finally tying the knot in his boots and straightening up.

He was wearing a frayed button down shirt with a patched vest over it. His trousers were torn and dirty but the look was appealing. His hazel eyes glinted with adventure. He grabbed his rucksack of belongings and followed Rachel hurriedly out the door. In the car, smiling but looking slightly anxious, was Blaine's singing troupe. They were to provide entertainment for the first class. Blaine looked fondly at his partners, excited that they would no longer lead a penniless existence when they received tips from the wealthy and finally become famous.

"Are you ready, Blaine?" Rory asked in his thick Irish accent

Blaine entered the car smiling widely.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

The driver pushed his foot on the gas and they were speeding off towards Southampton.

Blaine counted heads to make sure no one was left behind. Tina, Mercedes, Rachel, Artie, Mike, Rory, and Sam. He grinned and looked towards Southampton as if hoping to see the ship already. America held better hope for all of them.

"So what's our first performance gonna be?" Artie asked.

"At the dinner party tonight! We'll be going before the actual violin players and what not. That means we'll be the first impression. But the violinists will be fresh in their minds so they have a small advantage. But my solo-"

"Rachel, do us favor and shut up! We've already heard about your solo plan six times!" Mercedes snapped, still sour that she had no solo.

"I'll just remind everyone not to drink any milk tonight, and have warm water with lemon and honey good for the vocal chords, you know-" And off Rachel went tittering her usual criticism and suggestions until everyone stopped arguing and pretended to listen.

Blaine, catching things like "Vocal" and "Breath" while he drifted in and out of focus, gleefully thought how he would become wealthy after their New York plans and would never have to take third class again. But then he thought of how stuffy and sophisticated the rich were. _Boring _almost. But he would break that tradition and show them how to live a little. Glamour was nothing compared to great personality.

The car driver turned the corner and arrived at Southampton port.

A loud gasp interrupted Rachel's stream of consciousness

"Look! There it is!" Mike yelled, pointing ahead

Blaine looked up with excitement and spotted the _Titanic._

"It's so big!" Mercedes said in awe.

"I can't believe we'll actually sing in there! We'll make history!" Tina squealed and the girls went into excited giggles.

Sam and Rory opened the windows and cheered, waving their newspaper boy hats, unable to express their happiness in words.

Blaine leapt out the car and fumbled with his pockets. Artie was helped into his wheelchair by Sam and Rory.

"Everyone chip in, we gotta pay the driver."

Everyone handed the driver money.

"Have a safe journey" He muttered looking sullen as he drove away.

The troupe just stared at the massive vessel for a while until shaking themselves free of the sight.

"Guys! It's 12:10! We have five minutes!" Rachel squealed, checking her wristlet.

"Right! We need to move!" Sam yelled throwing his sack over his shoulder and charging towards the bridge.

Blaine, laughing, ran after him. The excitement in the air was infectious. There was laughing, cheers, calls of farewells, and snatches of singing. Blaine couldn't stop smiling. His musical friends laughed and panted around him finally reaching the bridge. Mike was pushing Artie's wheelchair as fast as he was running.

The Crew member at the door looked as though he was starting to take down the bridge.

"Wait! Wait for us!"

Blaine, being extremely fast, was the first to get there.

"Ah, you're just in time. Tickets please."

Son enough, the troupe walked around the crowds of people in the hallways, still grinning broadly. Their fellow passengers slowly settled into their compartments. Blaine observed his room number and the entrance to third class on C-deck.

"12:16. We _just_ made it." Rachel sighed looking immensely relieved.

"No need to worry. They always set a time, but it takes forever for a boat to actually start anyway." Sam said still panting and looking windswept.

"Alright. I'm with Rory and Sam in room C-208." Blaine said after reading their cards.

"All the girls are in room C-209."

"Artie and mike have the two-man room we got…C-210."

After they went into their rooms and dropped off their stuff, Sam, Rory, and Blaine ran through all the stairs to get to the top deck.

Sam was the first to step through the door and they leaned on the rails, waving to random people and screaming.

Behind them Captain Edward John Smith placed his hands on the elegant rail and smiled at the sea beyond.

"Take her to sea, Mr. Murdoch. Let's stretch her legs." He said giving Murdoch a warm smile

"Yes, sir!"

Murdoch walked away from him and moved the engine telegraph lever to "ALL AHEAD FULL"

The crew members all intensified the engines and coal supply until the _Titanic's_ propellers and steam drums moved her forward.

The boat speeded away from the port and the cheers intensified. Blaine began blowing kisses and shouting silly things like "I love you all!" and "Come to our next performance!" The boat traveled at a startlingly fast pace, the wind whipping his, Sam's, and Rory's hair askew. Sam ran towards the bow of the ship and the others followed.

Sam grabbed the rail and looked at the frothing ocean being spilt by the _Titanic's_ almighty bow.

"It's going so fast!" Rory yelled.

Sam climbed up on the rail and spread his arms.

"I'M KING OF THE WORLD!"

Blaine and Rory cheered loudly with Sam breathing in the salt air and feeling as though they were flying on a dark blue carpet. They were off. Off to America, the land of opportunity. Their lives were about to change.

**A wristlet was an old fashioned woman's wrist watch in the 1900s. It was more of a fashion statement but handy if you needed to know the time.I took some scenes from the movie and i wanted Sam to yell that the most, since he's so cute and blonde. The next chapter will be along when I have spare time, next time the plot actually get's moving.  
**


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